


Just a Sniper

by moriartystiger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:18:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartystiger/pseuds/moriartystiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian didn't just stop answering his phone, not unless there was a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Sniper

[To: Sebastian] Where the fuck are you? Why aren't you answering your phone? –JM

Jim sent numerous texts to his sniper and tried phoning him multiple times. No answer, no reply. The call would ring out until Sebastian's voicemail was reached, just a generic message instructing Jim to ‘please leave a message after the tone’. Jim didn't want to leave a message, he just wanted to know Sebastian was safe.

Leaving his office, Jim stepped into his car and began driving in the direction of Sebastian's job. Cars and houses flew past the window as Jim accelerated way beyond the speed limit. Sebastian didn't just stop answering his phone, not unless there was a problem.

Coming to a stop in front of the site of Sebastian's job Jim rushed inside in search of him. Scanning the room he saw why the sniper's phone was ringing out. Laying on the floor, unconscious as he bled out through his stomach, was the man in question. Jim crouched down beside him and felt his pulse, discovering that he was still alive.

“Sebastian. Sebastian, wake up,” Jim instructed, slapping his face lightly. He took out his phone and dialled the emergency services for an ambulance as he waited for Sebastian to come round. Once he was assured an ambulance was on its way he hung up and placed the phone on the floor. “Sebastian if you don't wake up now I swear to God…”

Sebastian began to stir lightly and Jim looked up from his wound to his face. The sniper opened his eyes and looked at the man next to him. “Jim…” he murmured weakly, the pain from his stomach evident on his face.

“Yeah, I'm here, and an ambulance is on its way.” He pulled out his handkerchief and applied pressure to the wound in an attempt to stem the bleeding. Sebastian let out a small groan of pain but Jim didn't remove his hand.

“Jim, it won't get here in time,” Sebastian said quietly. “I've been unconscious for a long time, I've already lost too much blood.”

“Shut up, of course it will.”

“Jim…”

“You're not allowed to die yet so don't you dare think about giving up,” Jim snapped. He wasn't going to get sentimental because Sebastian _wasn't_ dying. Not now, not today.

“I don't think you have much of a choice.”

“No, no don't say that. You will not die. I sent you here, it was too risky and it's my fault, you're not going to die from that.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“Shut up, stop arguing with me and save your energy.”

“I don't have any energy to save.”

Jim sniffed as tear threatened to prick at his eyes. He held them back since he insisted he didn't feel emotions and he sure as hell didn't show them. “You're going to get better.”

“Not this time,” Sebastian replied with a sad smile. Jim shook his head to disagree with the man, but he knew he was right.

“You can't die. I don't want you to.”

“I know, and if there was a way out I would take it, but Death's contract is pretty watertight.”

Jim let out an empty chuckle as Sebastian moved his hand to rest on the Irishman's. Jim smiled at the man but there was no happiness in his eyes. He sniffed once again and blinked back tears.

“Jim, I'm going to be alright. And of course you are. You'll just replace me, I'm sure there's another good sniper out there.”

“I just don't want to go through the tedious process of interviewing candidates,” Jim returned, trying to sound as indifferent as possible. Sebastian was just a sniper, that's all he was and now all he'd ever be.

“I can't really help with that, I'm afraid.” With Sebastian's last ounce of strength he squeezed Jim's fingers and flashed him a smile, before his hand fell limp and he slumped back down again.

Jim bit his lip as he squeezed Sebastian's lifeless hand. _Just a sniper, that's all he was. And now that's all he'd ever be._ He couldn't hold it in any longer and a single solitary tear came to the corner of his eye, from where it made its journey down his face and fell onto his sniper's body.

***

It had been weeks since Sebastian's death. He had missed the funeral, he couldn't cope with going and he still maintained that the man had just been an employee. However, after so long he felt he needed to visit the sniper's grave. He had bought a bunch of flowers so as not to look too suspicious, but he didn't know much about floriography and so just purchased the ones the shopkeeper had suggested.

Arriving at the cemetery Jim straightened his tie and walked between the gravestones until he found the one he was looking for. It still looked relatively new and for some reason that made Jim feel even worse about the whole situation.

“I, uh, brought you some flowers,” he said as he placed the bouquet next to the others which were beginning to wilt. “I don't know why I'm telling you, I know you can't hear me.”

To Jim, this whole thing was pretty pointless. Sebastian was dead and he wasn't coming back, it was as simple as that. But talking to him seemed to help somewhat. Jim could pretend he was still here, even if he knew better.

“You bloody bastard. You had to go and die, didn't you? You had to go and get yourself killed. God I hate you sometimes. You could never do anything right.” Insulting Sebastian always made Jim feel better, even if there was no anger in his voice this time.

“I kept your dog tags,” Jim said at length, kicking at the dirt as he kept his hands in his pockets. “You know, for the file. Not… anything else…” He took a deep breath and looked up at the sky.

“Do you know how fucking hard this is? Because let me tell you I can't cope. There's no way in hell I can replace you, you were always wrong, even on your deathbed. But you know what? I just can't be angry at you, and that makes me angry at myself.”

He rubbed a hand over his face as he looked away, checking to make sure no one could see or hear him. No one was in sight, but he still felt ridiculous talking to a dead man.

“I never understood emotions, nor did I ever want to have any part in feeling them. But it's harder than it looks, and you know what? I miss you.”

Jim felt tears pricking at his eyes and he bit his lip to stop himself crying. He was James fucking Moriarty, crying wasn't something that he did. Shaking his head he walked away, fingering the silver tags in his pocket as he got back into the car. Looking straight ahead and away from the cemetery he slammed his hands against the steering wheel before placing them over his face as he leant against the window.

Fucking Sebastian. He ruined everything.


End file.
